Shore Leave
by Veiladae
Summary: Shepard cannot believe he was convinced to spend his shore leave with the most renowned human companion on the Citadel: Inara Serra. Technically a Firefly crossover, but very Mass Effect heavy. Rated M to be safe, but details left to the imagination.
1. Chapter 1

Shepard ascended the stairs feeling uneasy. He couldn't believe he had allowed Garrus and Joker to talk him into spending his shore leave with a _companion_. The men who visited these women tended to be incredibly arrogant and self-entitled pansies, wholly undesired by women for anything other than their extreme wealth. Shepard, of course, was the complete opposite of these dandies. He was a war-hero, Savior of the Citadel, Defeater of Saren and Sovereign. His allure wasn't lacking. He simply… He was too busy saving the damn galaxy to worry about women.

However, one evening Shepard had wandered down to the cockpit to shoot the shit with Joker, when he found him already shooting the shit with Garrus. The topic had been women, evidently brought up by Joker who admitted to never having seen a female turian. Garrus shared his thoughts, but turns out human women weren't the only mystery in the universe. Garrus' knowledge of the opposite sex, aside from a few intense "encounters," was very limited.

With no women around to censor the conversation, it quickly took a turn in the "it's been a while since I had the chance to blow off steam" direction. Shepard had laughed, rolled his eyes, and half-regretted making an unannounced visit that evening.

Shepard's reaction had triggered curiosity in Joker.

"Damn, Shepard." Joker had laughed. "If I had access to your awesome digs… Let's just say I'd be 'flying solo' less. But have you _ever_ had a girl up there?"

Shepard opened his mouth to speak, but just ended up shrugging sheepishly. "Ever since I woke up in that Cerberus medical facility, I've been working non-stop." He didn't know why he suddenly felt the need to defend himself.

"That just means you're tied with Joker, but his zero is _not_ for lack of trying." Garrus said.

They all gave each other a hard time, but during the conversation they did all have to agree that it had been too long since they had a break from missions and battles. Garrus suggested a short shore leave could do them all wonders. Shepard shrugged. They had to visit the Citadel soon anyway. Might as well stick around for a few extra days. Maybe he could buy some more fish to replace the ones he recently found belly up in their tank.

"No, no, no…" Joker protested. "You're _not_ spending your shore leave shopping for fish!"

How had Shepard caved? Peer pressure? Desperation? Before he knew it, Joker had convinced both he and Garrus to seek out the company of women during this shore leave. Hell, after Shepard had refused, Joker had made the appointment with the companion himself.

"You're welcome! Give me the details later and we'll call it even." Joker had grinned.

Shepard had rolled his eyes again before leaving the cockpit, but a smile had slipped across his lips on his way out. Now, Shepard shook his head to himself as his foot ascended the last stair. Regardless of _who_ was to blame, he was here.

* * *

Inara placed a teapot full of boiling water onto the tray. She moved the large rectangular tray onto the coffee table and poured loose leaf tea leaves into the steeper. She double-checked that she had put a sufficient amount of sugar in the ceramic dish and milk in the pitcher. She looked around and quickly reached out to fluff the large plum and gold pillow on the couch… Again.

_Calm down, Inara._ She shook her head and replaced the pillow.

There was always an eager anticipation before meeting with a new client. Although she always screened her clients carefully, she could never be certain what to expect. However, for this client, this Commander Shepard, she had made an exception. Another man had scheduled their meeting and she had accepted without hesitation. She had entertained many different kinds of clients, but this man… Shepard was a name she knew. She had seen him in interviews in the newsreels. He had a rugged and handsome face. A surprisingly gentle and reassuring voice. He was a decorated soldier, an effective leader, an Alliance hero... In essence, she was feeling a little star-struck.

"Inara." A woman's voice chimed in. "Commander Shepard has arrived."

"Wonderful, Leyira!" Inara responded. "Please send him in."


	2. Chapter 2

"Commander!" Exclaimed the exotic brunette who greeted him at the door. "Welcome!"

Shepard entered the room and surveyed the surroundings. Elaborate, floral tapestries and fabrics hung from the walls and delicately draped from the ceiling. Numerous pillows lined the long couches. A king-size bed was layered with luxurious blankets and linens. The dim, but sufficient lighting was the result of numerous candles and scattered lanterns. _What a pleasant change from the Normandy,_ he thought. The ambiance was clearly romantic, but there was also an undertone of something more spiritual. Like a place of worship, even.

"May I take your jacket?" the woman asked, ruby lips stretched into a beautiful smile around pearl teeth. He looked over to her and immediately found himself surveying her. Was is the lighting? The ambiance? His own desperation? _She is gorgeous, _he thought. Her dark, curly hair spilled over her bare shoulders. Her floor-length dress hugged her curves in all the right places. He quickly shook his head to break his stare. He offered a curt nod in response to her question as his heart began racing. He hoped she couldn't detect his sudden nervousness. _It's not like this is your first time with a woman, for crying out loud, _he chided himself. _But, it is the first time in a long time..._

Shepard shrugged off the casual, N7 leather jacket. He handed it to her open hands while surreptitiously checking that he was still armed under his shirt. The motion was completely involuntary and subconscious. Shepard took no notice of his habit, but his hired companion's eyes caught the subtle motion.

"Please," she motioned toward the couch. "Make yourself comfortable. This is a sacred place of union. You're safe here."

Shepard half nodded, half shrugged in compliance. He mentally rolled his eyes at himself. He was _not_ accustomed to following orders, but here, in this context, it felt… appropriate to relinquish a little control. He was ready to play along with the charade.

"How do you take your tea, Commander?" the woman asked, taking a seat across from him.

"I…" He cleared his throat. "Please, Ma'am. Call me Shepard."

"All right," she smiled. "Please call me Inara." Her warmth of spirit was almost palpable.

"All right," he said. "And… Ah… I'm not really a hot tea kind of guy." Shepard shrugged and gave a half-hearted smile. "Not a lot of time for tea parties on mission."

Inara chuckled. "I'm sure!" She began to pour the steaming liquid into a small, traditional tea cup. The whole set on the coffee table matched. It was as exotic and ornate as the rest of the interior. "This chai is divine with a touch of milk… and very calming."

Shepard took the tea cup offered to him, although without half the grace she had demonstrated in preparing the drink. "Do I look like I need 'calming?'" He joked half-heartedly.

"I'm sure anyone in your position could stand to relax for once." She winked back and poured herself some tea.

He shrugged lightly in subtle agreement and tasted the tea. It was much hotter than he'd anticipated. He spilled some as he pulled the cup away from his burnt tongue. _Smooth move, dumbass…_

Inara jumped gracefully to his aid. She took a deep purple towel from the table and quickly mopped up the mess. "Are you…?"

"Fine!" Shepard interrupted a little too firmly. He cleared his throat again. "I'm fine," he said in a softer tone. Too much time spent in command and yelling over gunshots and explosions, he supposed. _It really has been too long since I've been in the presence of a lady,_ he scolded himself.

Inara seemed unperturbed by the moment. With the mess cleaned up, she took her seat again, and sat back comfortably, but with elegant poise.

"I must say, Shepard," Inara broke the ice after his embarrassing spill, "I am honored that you have come to visit me. I get many visitors- diplomats, business men, even the occasional celebrity from the latest vid- but few men of your caliber… Few true _heroes_."

Shepard laughed lightly. "I've just… risen to the occasion when needed."

Inara laughed pleasantly and sipped her tea. "Your humility is endearing, but I assure you, few men are capable of what you have accomplished… And still continue to accomplish. I'm sure that your missions are highly secret. I won't pry." Her smile widened. "I do hope your shore leave rejuvenates you for your upcoming missions. No doubt you are on the forefront of grand adventure."

Shepard couldn't help but smile back at her. Undoubtedly her knowledge of him had been guided by vids, newsreels, and old-fashioned gossip. She had probably never had the chance to truly explore the universe herself. The residents of the Citadel always seemed blissfully unaware of the true state of things.

"Don't believe everything you hear." Shepard said. "The 'grand adventure' you speak of isn't like what you see in the vids."

"Oh?" Inara's surprise seemed feigned for some reason. "What aspects of your missions may you speak of?"

"Well, there's lots of battles, exploration, rescue missions… No doubt." Shepard acknowledged. "There's lots of down time too. Lots of time spent repairing the ship, harvesting materials, calibrating guns… although I have an excellent turian crew member and friend who takes care of that tedious task." He dared another sip of the tea and this time found it was quite delicious. "We have poker tournaments occasionally."

"How do you fair against your comrades?" Inara asked.

Shepard smiled. "Oh, I can hold my own. The secret is in your nonchalance. Throws them off every time when you stay completely relaxed whether you fold the first round or win the pot with a Jack high. Joker, our pilot, hasn't mastered that skill yet, nor the ability to lose gracefully," Shepard chuckled, remembering their last game.

"Joker?" Inara smiled. "He set up our meeting. He must be a caring friend in addition to a fine pilot."

She'd approached the topic innocently enough, but Shepard didn't respond immediately. How much was he willing to tell her about the inner workings of the Normandy SR-2 and her crew? She certainly gave off an air of trustworthiness, but he truly didn't know her from any other stranger. _I didn't really come for chit-chat over tea anyway. Maybe we should just get _this _over with… _Shepard thought. _Although, just sitting in the presence of a beautiful woman and enjoying easy conversation is a luxury I haven't indulged in for far too long. Again, part of the charade, no doubt. Part of the packaged deal._

Inara responded to his hesitation, "You don't have to respond, Shepard. Our meeting is about you anyway. _Your_ wants and _your_ needs." She got up and walked around the table to sit next to him. "Why don't we get you more comfortable?" she asked and crouched down to start unlacing his combat boots before he could respond.

"Oh, I can take care of that." Shepard quickly bent down.

Inara took his hand gently but firmly and looked in his eyes. "I'm here to serve you, Shepard. Please allow me to. I wish to."

He awkwardly sat back, stiff from uneasiness again. Removing one's shoes was such a simple task. He suddenly felt like his pleasant "date" had become his personal maid. Perhaps she offered because she was used to serving clientele that expected such treatment. He, on the other hand, felt disconcerted at the very notion and was just grateful he thought to shower before coming to their "meeting."

After removing his last sock, she got up to place the boots against the wall. "I will return very shortly." Then she went into a little back room. He sat there uncomfortably. He hadn't known what to expect when he had agreed to visit a "companion." He knew that each "meeting" was different, but he also knew they all had one thing in common- the one thing that Garrus and Joker apparently thought he needed- but so far instead they'd had a tea party and chit-chat and now… What?

Inara reentered the room with a basin of aroma therapeutic water and set it at Shepard's feet. She rolled up his pant legs and submerged his bare feet into the warm water which smelled of lavender and vanilla. Her knees comfortably resting on a folded towel, she began to run a sponge from the ball of his foot to the heel.

_And now feet washing… ? _Shepard was flabbergasted. "Seriously, you don't have to…"

Again, Inara's hand gently, but firmly stopped his protest. "Lie back and close your eyes. Lavender and vanilla scents are very…"

"Calming?" Shepard asked.

Inara smiled and nodded. "They have been used for centuries in the Feet Washing Ceremony. Just as a heavily spiced chai has been used for centuries in the Tea Ceremony. These rituals are designed to help you relax, Shepard. You need it and deserve it. Let your hands fall naturally to your sides and your head fall back where it is most comfortable. There are plenty of pillows to assist you in getting completely comfortable."

Again, Shepard complied, although hesitantly. His shoulders remained stiff and he was self-conscious about participating in the strange ritual.

"Breathe in deeply through your nose and exhale slowly through your mouth." The companion guided his relaxation as she moved her hands knowledgeably over pressure points in the feet. "In your mind's eye, imagine a place where you feel most at peace. Calm your heart and bring yourself into that peaceful place."

His initial impression of this room had been accurate. She was a very spiritual person after all, and a very effective guide toward relaxation. The battle-hardened soldier succumbed to her soothing voice and gentle instruction. Shepard _never_ let his guard completely down. However, with Inara's guidance, he got closer than he'd ever care to admit.


	3. Chapter 3

Shepard was amazed by how quickly he'd given into the "charade" of Inara's rituals and how relaxed he was becoming. After she had finished washing his feet, she had invited him to the bed. One thing led to another and now here he was, wearing nothing but his pants, laying face down on the bed, and waiting to receive a shoulder massage. He had even relinquished his gun. Shepard couldn't remember the last time he had been _completely_ unarmed. He hated to admit he was enjoying himself and happy to forget about the Collectors, the Reapers, Cerberus… All the burdens he bore on his tense shoulders, at least for a little while.

Inara took a seat on the bed beside him. His eyes were closed and he faced away from her, but he could hear her preparing something. Some sort of ambient music began playing, comprised of Tibetan bowls and flutes. She rubbed her hands together briskly and laid them upon his shoulders. Her hands were lightly coated with some kind of oil which warmed the skin on contact. Or perhaps that was just the warmth from her body.

Shepard's lips crooked into a smile as he inhaled the aroma of the oil and felt the kneading of her experienced hands upon his knotted shoulder muscles. He was used to operating on high alert. He was used to utilizing all five senses at once, but for the purpose of detecting and averting danger or seeking out an enemy. Now all of his senses were being titillated in only pleasurable ways. He sighed, pleased.

"Goodness," he heard Inara whisper. Her hands fingered a raised scar running down his back. He felt her fingers explore further along his spine, her remarks of disbelief barely audible, but he could hear them. Even in the low lighting, she could see his numerous scars, burns, and abrasions. He suddenly felt embarrassed. Inara's hands moved up his neck to his cheeks and she barely stifled her gasp. Her closer inspection of his face revealed the tiny, fine red lines of cybernetics criss-crossing his jaw and cheekbone. "You have been through it," she breathed in disbelief.

Shepard sat up suddenly, feeling incredibly self-conscious. He faced away from her. Inara's heart sank, as much from the evidence of his obvious hardships as from her uncensored and unfavorable reaction to his body. Inara scolded herself. She had broken a cardinal rule of companionship: Don't get too close. She had developed a sentiment for him through watching him in the media and felt close to him even before the meeting began. She had let her guard down.

"Shepard, I…" Inara began.

He cut her off with a wave of his hand as he stood. "Don't worry about it." He headed over to his jacket and pulled out a flask and rectangular box. He held up a cigarette. "Do you mind?"

Inara remained seated on the bed. "By the balcony, please," she acquiesced.

Shepard pulled back the curtain from the balcony's entrance. The simulated night sky did little to further illuminate the room, which made the flame from the lighter that much more jarring to the eyes. Inara felt it lit up his face in a haunting sort of way. His silhouette revealed as much as the scars. His posture suggested he bore a burden no man could shoulder alone.

Her heart ached for him in a manner she never felt for her clients. She didn't just want him to come away from their time together refreshed and ready to face another day. She wanted to remove his burdens and past pains. Instead, she had just succeeded in making him feel undesirable, no doubt.

As he gazed out, silently inhaling and exhaling, she knew he had experienced more than a mere soldier's battle. _There must be wounds on his soul to match his body's scars, inch for inch_, she concluded. _What has this poor man been through?_

Inara rose from the bed and approached him slowly. "Do forgive me…"

Shepard barely offered a glance back and shrugged. "Forgive me my dirty little secret. No one knows I smoke. I only do it when I'm alone... When I need to get my mind off things." He took a swig of the flask. "Whiskey's more socially acceptable among soldiers." He gave a weak smile as she came to his side. "Both are reasonably effective."

Inara nodded. "Many of my clientele would agree with you. However, the demons they wish to escape are… Pale in comparison to yours, I'm sure."

Shepard made no gesture or sound to affirm her bold assumption. He merely continued looking out over the balcony.

"Each body tells a story, Shepard," Inara reached up to stroke his arm gently. "Yours shows a long history of combat, and injury, and loss..."

Shepard nodded ever so slightly. "So you can read me like a book, then?" His tone remained neutral, although Inara was certain he was hiding disgust.

_If I'd wanted a shrink, I would have spent shore leave with Kelly Chambers_, Shepard thought somewhat bitterly to himself.

Inara shifted her weight. "Shepard, I… I am not here to 'read' you and judge you. I am here to listen. You must have incredible stories and experiences which are difficult to speak of to close friends and family. Your scars reveal much about your past. Your cybernetics reveal much about your future. I'm sure you sought upgrades to help you in your line of work and there's nothing…"

"My cybernetics," he spat out the word in disgust, "were _not_ voluntary."

"Oh," Inara was taken aback. "I… I'm sorry for assuming. I just… Many of my clientele seek upgrades to cope with their…"

She stopped herself. The handsome, but rugged man standing before her was _not_ like her usual clientele, she finally realized in full. Most of the men who visited her were wealthy and self-entitled. Anything she did, they deserved. But this man, this Commander Shepard… He was a different breed of man. A higher caliber. She watched him take a swig of the flask and wondered what secrets he was trying to drown.

_No wonder a friend had to set up this meeting. No doubt he must be highly desired by the women around him, but he's too much of a gentleman to take advantage of their interests and too busy saving the galaxy to pursue genuine intimacy. One can only will away his physical needs for so long, though._

Inara could see in his eyes the shame he felt in being there the moment he walked in the door. He probably acknowledged his physical desires, but felt embarrassed and weak to admit they were "needs" and to have them provided for by a paid companion.

Shepard snuffed out his cigarette and with a final swig of the flask, returned to the couch to sit. Inara followed after a momentary respite to give him his space. She took a seat on the same couch, but the far side. They sat in silence for a little while before Shepard ventured to make momentary eye contact with her. Inara smiled, and he broke contact quickly. His look had spoken volumes. His primal lust was hardly veiled by the shame and self-loathing which clearly took precedence in his conscious mind. The whiskey had not drown his reservations enough.

"Shepard," Inara ventured.

He nodded acknowledgement.

"Do you know why I chose to be a companion?"

He opened his mouth to speak, but his voice seemed to catch. He shrugged. "I don't… want to offend you. I'm not really sure I see the appeal from your perspective."

Inara chuckled and Shepard had to smile.

"Many people look down on my lifestyle. Many people regard me as just a 'whore.'"

Shepard looked up, shocked to hear the word from her. Her momentary hesitation before continuing seemed to reveal a thought or memory she wished to keep concealed.

"But, I, of course, know better than that." She smiled genuinely. "As I said, each body tells a story, Shepard. They are like the stars of the 'verse. Each is unique and special and no two are identical, but they are made of the same kinds of materials. Each body shares common needs, common frailties. It doesn't matter if it belongs to a human, or an asari, or a hanar… We all need sleep... sustenance… _intimacy_… Our bodies and souls were designed for companionship with each other. A person's need for intimacy is not a weakness. It's a beautiful condition that knits our lives together."

Shepard just nodded. He fidgeted with his hands in an anxious gesture.

_This is it._ Shepard told himself. _You came here to "blow off steam," and she's practically begging you to do so, so just do it._ His palms grew balmy. He felt like it had been a white elephant in the room from the moment he walked in. Clearly she knew he had paid for… _that_. She had guided him this far through pleasantries and rituals and now… It seemed they had arrived to _the_ moment and she was just waiting on him to initiate their union. He quickly looked up, took a deep breath, and suddenly closed the gap between them. He placed his lips on her neck more clumsily than he'd liked, one hand on her face and the other on her shoulder. Inara gasped slightly from the surprise. She closed her eyes and smiled as he finally gave in to his passions. She hated admitting to herself how eager _she_ was to fulfill his physical needs. She had anticipated this part as much as he must have. As he worked his way down, she dared to let her guard down again and simply enjoy the moment.


	4. Chapter 4

Shepard lay next to Inara, staring at the ceiling, hands behind his head. She lay next to him quietly, stroking his chest. So, he had gotten what he came for. He hated admitting how much he had needed it. However, now he lay there feeling that that couldn't be all. This whole "experience" couldn't be over. Couldn't end like a casual encounter at a bar, where the guy sneaks off after the woman falls asleep. He had a need still, gnawing at his gut, fully aware of the time constraints of their encounter.

"I died," Shepard blurted out.

"Pardon?" Inara asked gently.

Shepard stubbornly remained silent again. Rather more accurately he processed his own thoughts to himself. He _never_ shared his personal thoughts with others. His wants, his fears, his hopes, his past… These he guarded fiercely. It was imperative to the mission. He couldn't show any weakness to his crew. He couldn't show any… _But, she's not crew,_ he reminded himself. _This woman, Inara, is probably no more than a one-time… experience. _Shepard immediately chided himself for reducing her to that word.

"My cybernetics, my 'upgrades' you noticed…" he explained. "They weren't voluntary. They were part of a project to… resurrect me, after I had… died…" His voice trailed off and he swallowed hard as he awaited a response to his confession.

Inara bit back her immediate reaction. Her heart flip-flopped. His story didn't sound entirely plausible to her, but her instincts, her training, his vulnerability…. they told her he wasn't lying.

"When?" She finally asked, continuing to stroke his chest hair.

Shepard's eyes remained glued to the ceiling. "Two years, five months, and seventeen days ago."

Inara looked up at him to show she was listening intently, but remained quiet. Shepard took his cue.

"I… ah… We were on a mission to seek out geth when we were attacked. The Normandy, our ship… She was ripped apart, blown all to hell. Joker, my pilot… He needed help getting to the escape pod… I… He made it, I didn't. An explosion blew me back, suspended in the black. My helmet or a tube… something had been damaged… My oxygen leaked out and the last memory I have is seeing the Normandy in pieces, sparks from live wires, debris, fire… As the world around me faded to black.

Shepard inhaled and exhaled deeply.

"Two years later I wake up in a medical laboratory. Felt like I was waking up from a bad hangover and beating. The facility was under attack, so I had to immediately pull myself together and fight to survive." He laughed a hollow laugh. "Story of my life…"

Inara caught that he'd need prompting to continue, but couldn't settle on a single question.

"We heard… There were newsreels, I remember." Inara said. "Two years ago. They announced your… death." Shepard visibly cringed at the word again. _Poor thing…_ "It was big news here on the Citadel, especially because of your leadership in the Battle of the Citadel." She thought for a moment. "I don't understand why your return hasn't been announced as vivaciously. I saw a recent reel in which an Alliance officer refused to comment to the media about your 'rumored' return."

"That medical facility I mentioned… It's Cerberus." Shepard's voice sounded weary. "Cerberus rebuilt me. The same bastards who have earned the label of 'terrorists' somehow found and claimed my body and resurrected me. Project Lazarus, they called it. My 'upgrades' weren't upgrades as much as necessary components to resurrect my… ah… corpse." He breathed out the last word and swallowed again.

Inara could feel a physical shudder shake him. He fell silent again, but she could see in his eyes his thoughts were racing. Inara closed the meager gap between them further and stroked his cheek to calm him and show her willingness to listen without interrupting. Inara knew men and this one… She knew he had never articulated these words to another person before. He wasn't merely gathering his thoughts, he was still working through a devastating event he had yet to fully process.

"You know… I…" Shepard continued, still formulating his thoughts. "You have to make some really tough calls, as a commander. My previous crew, on the Normandy SR-1… We were sent to Virmire because a group of salarians was supposed to have information about Saren. They had…" He stole a glance over at Inara for the first time. He could see she was listening intently, but she wasn't familiar with all of the people and places of his history. _Cut to the chase… _"I was put in a position to make a decision between two crew members… Who to rescue and who to leave… Who to allow to… die."

The word lingered. Shepard stared at the ceiling again, lost in thought.

"Tell me about him." Inara prompted gently.

"Her, actually…" Shepard responded. "Her name was Ashley. Ashley Williams. She was a hell of a soldier. I would go chit-chat with her often while she cleaned guns and whatnot. Always busy. Always mission-minded. She… She had a family. Sisters. And, she had a faith… in God."

Shepard covered his face with his hand. A gesture of shame, Inara interpreted, but not with certainty.

"When I made the call, she was completely calm and compliant. She didn't blame me. She didn't… When we boarded the Normandy again, her absence haunted me. I told myself it was okay. She had her God. She was 'in a better place.' She…" His fingers moved to pinch the bridge of his nose and his pushed himself to continue. "When I died, there was no light. No angels singing. No pearly gates. Ash had challenged me to believe in her God, and I think that I did, for a bit. But in the end for me death was… black. Emptiness." Inara noticed a single tear escape his eye. Fight back the emotions as he tried, he couldn't remain stoic on this topic. "Did I resign her to the same fate? Eternal darkness. No one sought to 'resurrect' her body. Apparently the powers that be value my life above that of people like her. She was a hell of a soldier… She was a hell of a person…"

Shepard sat up rather abruptly and hid his face in his hands. Shame, mingled with sorrow, touched by anger… He couldn't fight back that many emotions at once.

"So, why… Why am _I_ alive? Life is so fucked up. A second chance feels like a curse."


	5. Chapter 5

Shepard couldn't believe his breakdown. He felt incredibly embarrassed as he gathered his composure. Even with his eyes closed, however, he could sense Inara's reaction included no judgment or condescension. She merely rubbed his back soothingly and allowed the moment to progress naturally.

Somehow Shepard had felt so comfortable in Inara's presence that he had just spoken with her about something so personal and so haunting, he had never breached the topic with anyone else. He and Joker just avoided the topic altogether. Garrus seemed to be hiding his own demons from Omega. Miranda loved to talk about Project Lazarus from a purely scientific point-of-view. It was one of the reasons he avoided interactions with her, honestly.

But Inara. Shepard had not expected her to be such a spiritual person. Perhaps that was what he needed. In some ways his admission to her felt like a confession to a priest. His guilt, his regrets, his doubts… He felt certain that Inara was willing and able to share the burden and trustworthy to keep his words to herself.

He laid back down on his back, closed his eyes, and sighed.

"I'm glad you were given a second chance." Inara said.

"Mmm…" Shepard contemplated. "My second chance came with a lot of strings attached. I was brought back because they, _Cerberus_, have something they want to accomplish and they think I'm the only... _tool..._ that they can use to achieve their goal."

"You're no one's 'tool,'" Inara objected, stating the obvious. "You're a person. Don't let anyone degrade you to that level."

Shepard shrugged. "Sometimes _I feel_ like a tool. With all of these cybernetics… Sometimes I don't feel fully human anymore. And Cerberus' leaders have a point…" _Much as I hate to admit it_, he thought. "I might be the only thing, the only _one_, who can stop the Collectors. That's why I don't make time for… luxuries. I…" Shepard breathed another deep sigh. "Sleeping... eating… s-sex." He stumbled over the last word with a blush. "Intimacy. Your word. These things are just inconveniences that keep me from accomplishing more important tasks."

_This is a man who runs on pure will power. _Inara thought. _Burns the candle at both ends. The cigarettes are a crutch. A mindless, repetitive motion to quiet the mind. The whiskey just hushes his thoughts long enough for him to rest._

"Shepard…" Inara coaxed.

"Call me John." He suddenly looked at her. "My first name is John."

"John." She smiled and laid her head on his chest. She relished being the person he was opening up to. "These things- sleeping, eating, sex and intimacy- they are not luxuries. They are the most basic of all human needs. I'm sure you would never deny your crew members meals and sleep between shifts. You mustn't deny yourself these things either."

"You're not the first to accuse me of not taking care of myself. Our yeoman, Kelly Chambers, she's always checking in on me."

"Then you must know there is truth in it." Inara said gently. "The whiskey and cigarettes are poor substitutes for your genuine needs… John."

Shepard smiled slightly at the sound of his first name. "It's just… I don't feel like I have time. My second chance needs to _mean_ something. I need to _accomplish_ something. Not just something. The galaxy is in danger. We're up against an entire race of alien bastards that are abducting entire colonies to…" Suddenly he remembered he was speaking with a civilian and looked over at her.

Inara looked a little pale. "I've heard about the missing colonies."

He put his arm around her and squeezed her tightly. It wasn't his intention to frighten her. It was a very real reminder why the whole truth must never broadcast to the masses.

"So," Shepard proceeded carefully. "You know why I must work so hard. To protect people like you."

"And I hope, if I may be so bold, that our time together has shown you why you must also make time to care for yourself." Inara said. "You are an amazing person, John Shepard. Not just for what you have accomplished and what you will accomplish, but simply for who you are. Strengths and weaknesses alike."

Inara's heart fluttered as Shepard reached out to stroke her chin before taking her in his arms again for a much more tender kiss than the first time. He wrapped his arm around her bare back and kissed her again. This time the passion was borne not of lust and physical need, but of affection and respect. He had bared his soul and she had shown mercy and understanding. In his younger years, he would have defined the pounding in his heart as "love." In his maturity, he dared not over-analyze things and their intimacy.


	6. Chapter 6

Shepard awoke to the sound of clinking ceramics. He opened his eyes slowly and sat up. He was still in the bed, but no one lay next to him. Inara was seated on the couch.

"You're awake." she stated with a smile.

She was dressed again. This time a thin, nearly transparent satin robe covered her body. The fringes of which were embroidered delicately. Everything about this woman was pleasing to the senses, in every context it seemed. She placed a spoonful of dried leaves into the teapot to steep.

"What time is it?" he asked groggily.

"4:42 am" Inara responded. "You weren't out _terribly_ long."

Shepard grinned sheepishly. "Guess the second time took it out of me."

Inara laughed. "You are welcome to continue sleeping."

Shepard shook his head. "I'm sorry I lost _any_ time with you. I'm not going to lose more."

Inara actually blushed at the statement. "Then, please sit."

Shepard nodded. He stood up and found his underwear and pants lying on the floor next to the bed. He got dressed and put his shirt on after finding it draped over the couch. He sat on the couch next to her.

Before him he found a new spread on the table. The same tea set sat on the tray, but this time surrounded by various snacks- cookies, strawberries, crackers and cheeses. Shepard immediately went for a strawberry and savored the bite. Fresh fruit was a rarity on board. Then he picked up a rectangular cookie and sampled it. Shortbread. It was delicious. He dared to believe it contained actual butter. He spent so much time on warships he forgot between shore leaves how delicious civilian food could be. How fresh.

Inara smiled as she watched him and poured him a cup of tea.

"I am glad I brought you refreshments, if you are so hungry." She laughed.

"Not just that." Shepard said between bites. "The free room and board of a warship is a nice perk, but the food and accommodations are seriously lacking in quality sometimes. Well… I of all people cannot complain about my quarters and our chef does what he can. Just logistically you can only stock ingredients and meals that won't expire."

Inara nodded. "I remem..." She quickly swallowed the word.

Shepard was in the middle of reaching for a cracker when he stopped and looked at her.

"Remember?" he asked. "You haven't... served, have you?"

"No… I…" Inara was caught off guard again. _Cardinal rule, Inara: Don't get too close. _"Of course, not. Would you like more strawberries?"

Shepard eyed her curiously. "But you haven't always lived here on the Citadel, have you?

Inara hesitated. "No. But my history is terribly dull. I'd rather talk about…"

"The most renowned human companion on the Citadel today has a 'dull' history?" Shepard smiled incredulously. "I doubt that."

Inara shrugged as she thought of a way to redirect the conversation. This man was such a struggle for her. She kept dropping her guard unintentionally. Or perhaps, she wondered, because she wanted to... It didn't matter. She had regulations to follow as a companion. Guild law.

Shepard smiled and nudged her gently. "I've shared all sorts of secrets with you. I don't know how you managed that. I guess I feel you won't betray my trust. I hope you feel the same with me."

Inara smiled back against her will. _What harm could there be in speaking of the past, just a little? _

"I do," Inara said. "Find you trustworthy."

"I'm glad. So… Where was home before this?" Shepard asked.

"Serenity." Inara responded, the memory causing a smile to creep across her face.

"Hmm…" Shepard said. "I've been all over the galaxy, but I'm unfamiliar with that planet. Which system is it in?"

"Oh, she's not a planet." Inara said. "She was a ship. A Firefly class ship."

"Isn't that a transport vessel?" Shepard asked.

"I…" Inara chose her words carefully. "I didn't assist in the transportation of goods. I leased a shuttle, actually, out of which I worked as a companion."

"Hmm…" Shepard mulled it over. "Sounds strange for a companion to be working from a ship."

"It is rather unconventional," Inara agreed.

"So why do it?" Shepard asked.

Inara eyed him with a smile. "Why join the military? I imagine some of the reasons we have chosen to live our lifestyles is the same: adventure."

Shepard nodded and took a sip of tea between bites of crackers and cheese. "Adventure," he reiterated. "It can be overrated."

Inara sighed longingly. "I wouldn't trade a minute of it."

"Where did your 'adventures' take you?" Shepard inquired.

"We spent most of our time on border planets. They were not the top tourist destinations of the galaxy, but good people live there. Hardworking, industrious settlers, just looking for a better life."

"So your crew brought them supplies?" Shepard asked.

Inara nodded slowly, not wishing to expose her crew's illegal heists, but also not wishing to betray Shepard's trust with lies.

Shepard smirked. "Okay. You don't want to talk about the details. You seem to have fond memories of the Serenity, though. What made you leave that life and settle here?"

Inara looked away. _Here is where you must draw the line._ After a brief moment's thought, she responded with a sweet smile. "I must leave your inquiries there. A woman is entitled to her mysteries. It gives us our tantalizing allure."

Shepard laughed lightly and looked her over. "You certainly are _not_ lacking in allure."

Inara just chuckled and nudged him playfully. Their eyes met and she saw a sparkle in his which had been lacking when he had first entered her chambers. His soldier's eyes, which had undoubtedly seen so much death and destruction, were positively radiant now.


	7. Chapter 7

As they talked, the artificial sunrise slowly illuminated the room through the partially closed balcony curtains, marking the passage of time. Both noticed, but neither wanted to acknowledge the announcement of the closing of their time together. The voice of Leyira, Inara's assistant, breached the topic for them.

"8 am has arrived," she announced over the system. "I will be happy to see Mr. Shepard out as agreed."

Shepard and Inara's eyes met.

_Well, it couldn't last forever,_ Shepard acknowledged to himself.

"Best I gather my things, it seems." he said.

Inara offered a wry grin and nod in response. The time had passed too quickly for her.

Shepard retrieved his jacket, pulled on his combat boots, and strapped his gun back in its place._ Back to reality._ He had entered the meeting thinking it was nice that this encounter had a definite end. No obligations. No false promises. No hard feelings. Yet, as he approached the door to exit, he couldn't help but feel disappointment.

Inara sighed as she followed him. "I guess this is where we part ways."

Shepard nodded, head hung a little low. "I suppose I knew there would be an end to this before it began. Still… I…" Shepard took Inara's hand. "Thank you. I really needed… everything."

Inara beamed back at him. "I am very glad I was able to help. Your company was pleasant for me as well." She pulled him into a delicate hug and placed a kiss on his cheek. "You are always welcome here, should you find the need for a _next_ time."

Shepard hugged her back. "Thank you. In my line of work, next time is never guaranteed, but I will remember the invitation."

Shepard squeezed her hand as he turned on his heel to head down the stairs. "Take care."

"You too."

Inara crossed her arms and leaned against the doorway. She watched as he left.

"His name was Mal." Inara blurted impulsively.

"Hmm…?" Shepard asked and stole a glance backward.

"I don't have any scars for you to… read," Inara explained with a sheepish half-smile. "So I'm telling you."

Shepard immediately processed the past tense of that word. "Must have been one hell of a man."

"He was." Inara acknowledged and added, "As are you, John Shepard."

Shepard's mouth crooked into a half-smile and he turned back on his heel and descended the stairs.

_So, that was Shepard. Commander Shepard. _John _Shepard. _Inara reflected. A smile swept across her face. Whether or not _next_ time ever came, she had had _this_ time and cherished it.

* * *

Shepard found Joker and Garrus standing before the Normandy in the docking bay. Joker was obviously in a great mood, but Garrus looked awful.

"Oh! Shepard's here!" Shepard heard Joker comment to Garrus. "Now we can share your good news."

Shepard just saw Garrus shake his head.

"Shepard!" Joker motioned as he approached the two. "Ask Garrus about his night!" he laughed.

"Ohh…" Garrus groaned. "I can't believe I told you…"

_Alright. Now I'm curious. _

"Okay. How'd you fair, Garrus?" Shepard inquired.

Garrus just dropped his head into his hand and rubbed his temples. "Don't ask…" He begged in a low voice.

"Garrus woke up next to a batarian!" Joker practically shouted. "Can you believe that?!"

Shepard's nose involuntarily wrinkled up into a truly disgusted expression.

Joker laughed. "You must have been _plastered_ not to…"

Garrus lifted up his hand in a gesture that begged him to stop. "Speaking of… Please don't shout." He grumbled.

"Damn, Garrus." Shepard couldn't help but join in and slapped him on the back. "You went to Chora's Den and managed to find the one woman who _isn't_ an attractive asari dancer?"

"Ahh… Hilarious. Don't let Joker fool you into thinking his night was much better." Garrus said. "He _did_ find an 'attractive asari dancer,' tipped her a ton of creds, and came away with a broken hip."

Shepard eyed Joker for confirmation.

"It wasn't a broken hip." Joker corrected. "Just a fractured…"

"He spent the night with Dr. Chakwas," Garrus interrupted. "In sick bay. Over shots of medi-gel. Very romantic…"

"All right," Joker conceded. "So we blew it this shore leave. But what about you, Commander?" Joker elbowed Shepard's ribs. "Did you get what you needed?" His exaggerated wink and boyish grin made Shepard roll his eyes and laugh.

He sighed and took a momentary glance back. "Yeah…" he shrugged. "I guess I did."

"Good for you," Garrus feigned congratulations in a completely monotone voice. "Now let's go. I'm ready to get back to it. I need to _shoot_ something… anything. _After_ this hangover abates."

"Yeah, let's get out of here." Shepard agreed. "We've got good people to save."


End file.
